Bastiat and Repentance: How Not to Get Out of a Recession

Vandalism will get us out of the recession! If a little kid throws a rock through your window, shouldn’t you thank him for boosting the economy?

In a previous post (The Benefits of Sin?), I described a misconception we sometimes have about sin and repentance. Dallin H. Oaks describes the misconception this way:

Some Latter-day Saints who wrongly think … that a little sinning will not hurt. … The adult versions [of this notion] are more sophisticated and more pernicious. Perhaps some would even assert that a person is better off after he has sinned and repented. “Get a little experience with sin,” one argument goes, “and then you will be better able to counsel and sympathize with sinners. You can always repent.” …

The idea … that one is better off after sinning and repenting are devilish lies of the adversary. … We do not have to have personal experience with the effects of serious transgressions to know that they are injurious to our souls and destructive of our eternal welfare.((Dallin H. Oaks, “Sins, Crimes, and Atonement,” address to CES religious educators, 7 Feb. 1992, Temple Square Assembly Hall, accessed on ldsces.org.))

I have shown elsewhere (“I am the Way … Unless You Find a Better One”) why this idea is so wrong, but there is one more question I’d like to address: why do we mortals come to this incorrect conclusion so often—often enough that modern prophets must continually address it? Why does this idea seem so sensible sometimes? What makes this illusion so compelling that it continues to pop up?

I have two possible reasons to suggest, the firsthaving to do with our knowledge of the past and present (which I cover in this post), and the second having to do with our awe of Heavenly Father’s power and will (which I will cover in a follow-up post). The first reason involves an important lesson taught in a fantastic nineteenth-century pamphlet on economics.

Frederic Bastiat, “The Seen and the Unseen”

In 1848, one Frederic Bastiat published a pamphlet on economics called “The Seen and the Unseen” (alternatively translated “What Is Seen and What Is Not Seen”). He posits a scenario in which a little boy breaks a window, forcing his father to go spend money buying a new one. The neighbors shrug it off as harmless, even beneficial, consoling the father by saying, “Such accidents keep industry going. Everybody has to make a living. What would become of the glaziers [window makers] if no one ever broke a window?”((Frederic Bastiat, “What is Seen and What is Not Seen” (Irvington-on-Hudson, NY: The Foundation for Economic Education, Inc.), first published in 1848, trans. Seymour Cain.))

Claude Frederic Bastiat (1801–1850)

Bastiat goes on to point out the fallacy in this condolence.

Since our citizen has spent six francs for one thing, he will not be able to spend them for another. It is not seen that if he had not had a windowpane to replace, he would have replaced, for example, his worn-out shoes or added another book to his library. In brief, he would have put his six francs to some use or other for which he will not now have them. …

The window having been broken, the glass industry gets six francs’ worth of encouragement; that is what is seen. If the window had not been broken, the shoe industry (or some other) would have received six francs’ worth of encouragement; that is what is not seen. …

The reader must apply himself to observe that there are not only two people, but three, in the little drama that I have presented. The one, [the father], represents the consumer, reduced by destruction to one enjoyment [an intact window] instead of two [an intact window plus, for example, new shoes]. The other, under the figure of the glazier, shows us the producer whose industry the accident encourages. The third is the shoemaker (or any other manufacturer) whose industry is correspondingly discouraged by the same cause. It is this third person who is always in the shadow, and who, personifying what is not seen, is an essential element of the problem. It is he who makes us understand how absurd it is to see a profit in destruction.((Frederic Bastiat, “What is Seen and What is Not Seen” (Irvington-on-Hudson, NY: The Foundation for Economic Education, Inc.), first published in 1848, trans. Seymour Cain.))

The destruction of the window pane seems helpful to the economy only when we consider just two people: the consumer and the producer. When we realize that there is a third party indirectly but intimately involved in the transaction, everything becomes clearer. Even though that third person, the might-have-been producer, technically never interacted with the father or the glazier, he is the vital unseen part of the equation. When we consider that unseen third person, it becomes obvious that destruction is neither helpful nor harmless, but rather harmful to an economy.

The Unseen Path of Growth

Just as there is not economic profit in destruction, there is not spiritual growth from sin. The lack of consideration for unseen possibilities, which Bastiat points out, is one thing that leads to this misconception about sin and repentance that Elder Oaks warns against. We can see two conditions fairly clearly: our present and our past, because we’ve been there. What we often do not see is a third condition: the possible-but-unrealized present that would have grown out of Christ-like obedience.

What might have been. When we look back at our past (A), it’s true that we’ve grown a lot in spite of sin (B). But if we could see how much and in what other areas we could have grown through obedience to the Father’s will (C), we would never conclude that sin in necessary or helpful.

Referring to the sin-repentance path on my adaptation of Elder Bateman’s chart, a person who has been through the repentance process will be at about the spot labeled B. In the past, before she deviated from the particular commandment in question, she was at the about the spot labeled A. In comparison to condition A, condition B is better, in that a person has more understanding, maturity, and experience than she did before.

Take for example a missionary who makes the mistake of Bible-bashing. At the beginning of her mission, she avoids the practice, but then she tries it out and gets into the habit of starting fruitless debates. Over the course of several months, she eventually learns that being combative is counter-productive and doesn’t result in true conversion. So she stops bashing. The contrast in her attitude and her results is remarkable. She gets better at recognizing when the Spirit is present, what drives it away, and how to resolve the concerns that really matter to her investigators. She now has important insights, reflected by her condition at point B.

She could compare her current condition to point A. That is, after all the wonderful things she’s learned, she looks back at her missionary abilities at the very beginning of her mission. It would be true to say, “Wow, I’ve learned so much since then. I’m a better teacher and a better missionary, and I’ve learned how to rely on the Spirit.” When she compares condition B (her present) with condition A (her past, before the point of departure from the Lord’s ways), she is absolutely correct that she has grown immensely. She is in a better condition—compared to point A.

The comparison she is not making is to point C, the state her missionary abilities might have been in had she not indulged in bashing. Had she taken that course, she likely would have come to the same true conclusions about the ineffectiveness of bashing and the vitality of having the Spirit when resolving concerns. But she also would likely have learned other important lessons because she wasn’t wasting time in fruitless contention.

Bible Bashing. Just because you learn a lesson from your mistakes, it doesn’t mean that it was the only way you could have learned that lesson.

Because condition B is genuinely improved over condition A, largely as a natural result of time and growth, she might mistakenly conclude that dabbling in bashing was the only way to get to the knowledge about the importance of the Spirit that she has at point B. By making the wrong comparison, she might say deceptively attractive things like, “Well, I know you’re not supposed to bash, but I think it’s a phase every missionary has to go through, before they can really understand that it just doesn’t work. In fact, I never would have learned to recognize the Spirit without that contrast.” Such a conclusion would ignore two things: that she could have come to her current knowledge and understanding through means other than ignoring Godly counsel, and that she might have attained even greater knowledge and understanding through that more obedient process.

Clarifications

There are two concerns that frequently attend any in-depth discussion of repentance. First, “Well, you’re not perfect, so you shouldn’t talk about others’ mistakes so much.” Please understand, I am including myself in every one of these principles and hypothetical scenarios. This discussion of sin and repentance embraces all fallen mortals, including me. One reason I feel so compelled to write about this is that it’s all so applicable to me.

Second, “All this focusing on what-might-have-been might make people despair.” I don’t believe despair is the only possible reaction. Ezra Taft Benson said, “Just as a man does not really desire food until he is hungry, so he does not desire the salvation of Christ until he knows why he needs Christ.”((Ezra Taft Benson, “The Book of Mormon and the Doctrine and Covenants,” Ensign, May 1987, p. 83.)) Pondering what might have been is one way to realize just why and how much we need Christ. One reader understandably asked, “Where does that lead us?”((Comment by Aaron on “As Though It Never Happened.”) Well ideally, to gratitude for forgiveness, not to despair.

One final clarification: by using Bastiat’s comments on economics, I am not equating spiritual growth with cold, sterile income portfolios. In fact, I’ve intentionally refrained from quantifying light and truth, time, or sin; I have added no units on either axis of Elder Bateman’s chart. For example, time might be measured in seconds, months, or even choices. The message of the chart is that each point on the obedience line is higher than the previous, showing that obedience leads to growth. I use the economics analogy to encourage us to not ignore “the Unseen,” those spiritual factors that should cause us to reconsider which choices genuinely lead to spiritual growth.